Curtains of War
by TheBadPanda
Summary: The Imperium of Man is desperate. Despite the parades and the propaganda, humanity is fighting a losing battle. They need a game changer, something that can turn the tide in their favour. The future does not bode well for them, so they seek assistance from the only place left: the past.
1. Chapter 1

Hey Guys, something I have been working on.

In this story, The Imperium of Man finds an army from the past that just might help turn the tide in their favour.

It follows a similar principle to the Dark Age of War by BanterHorse and this story has been published with his permission.

The Curtain of War

Chapter 1

 _Senatorum Imperialis_ _, Imperial Palace,_ _Holy Terra,_ _Sub-Sector Sol, Solar Sector, Segmentum Solar_ _0 564.998.M41_

Twelve individuals one by one slowly entered a room grander and greater than any other in the Imperium short of the Golden Throne Room itself.

They gathered around a long elegant table, forged from the rarest and most expensive resource in the galaxy, ebony wood grown from the soil of Terra itself. The chairs were solid mahogany oak, specially designed for comfort and the incredible weight the people had both in status and physical bulk.

They were old, their names have not been used for a millennia; they were only recognised by their title, nothing more.

The Master of the Adeptus Administratum a hooded man of sizeable bulk, his form covered with countless manuscripts, records and figures. To call him a walking filing cabinet would be accurate but also a one way ticket to a firing squad.

The Representative of the Inquisition, a man with peculiar taste. A cybernetic eye and heavy armour clashed with a fancy cane and fur coat. His reputation alone made his colleagues nervous and when he spoke they all listened. But he was not as arrogant as his predecessor, who 'disappeared' after deciding it was appropriate to investigate the Paternoval Envoy for corruption.

The Ecclesiarch of the Adeptus Ministorum, a flamboyant man who smelt of incense and draped with white and gold. A large book containing copies of the Imperium's Holy text hung from his waist. His form held by a large staff with a flame lit at the top.

The Fabricator-General of the Adeptus Mechanicus the least humanoid of them all, he did not so much as walk but crawl under spindly insectoid legs. His mere presence was accompanied with mechanical hisses and beeping emitted under his red robes.

The Grand Provost Marshal of the Adeptus Arbites, a man with a perpetual look of anger and irritation. Proud of his roots as an Arbitrator maintained his black armour and modified Shock Mauler. Whether it was out of symbolism or to hit people over the head is a question still lingering on everyone's minds.

The Paternoval Envoy of the Navigators, a member of the Magisterial House Belisarius. Dressed in house colours, he has been the unquestioned and unrivalled Paternoval Envoy for some time. However, that streak is at risk since the Inquisition has taken notice of him on suspicion of corruption. He wears a black band across his forehead shielding others from his third eye. He plays his cards close to his chest and shares with no one.

The Master of the Astronomican, the manager of the most secure place in the galaxy after the Golden Throne itself. A man entranced by the eternal duty of maintaining the beacon of the Imperium, he sacrificed much of his flesh for tireless cybernetics. He seemed less like a man of great importance, and more an impatient, overworked and frustrated clerk.

The Grand Master of the Officio Assassinorum, the most unassuming and mysterious of them all. One would barely notice him much less consider him the leader of one of the deadliest organisations in the galaxy. That is of course assuming he was indeed a 'he'.

The Master of the Adeptus Astra Telepathica, a balding man of small stature but his gaze hid a terrifying intellect and even more horrifying abilities. Rumoured to have trained the Grey Knights in psyker combat, to hold a conversation with him was impossible for everything you could possibly say had already crossed his mind.

Lord Commander of the Segmentum Solar, the newest addition to the group, his young age, a mere three hundred years old, startled many of the senior members. Some considered him a poor substitute for the previous holder of his chair, the Lord Commander Militant of the Imperial Guard. But his inventiveness and dedication to protecting the heart of the Imperium has earned him some respect amongst his peers.

Lord High Admiral of the Imperial Navy, an imposing moustached man clad in a simple blue tunic weighed down by medals so numerous they could have been mistaken for armour. A silent man, who rarely spoke he watched his colleagues cautiously.

Captain-General of the Adeptus Custodes the grandest of them all. A man taller than the rest, he could have dwarfed a space marine. His armour forged from bright gold. He looked more like a grand eagle than a man, he carried his Guardian Spear with pride, the blade so sharp it looked capable of cutting through the hardiest of armour.

These individuals were the High Lords of Terra, the most important people in the Imperium of Man, perhaps even the galaxy itself. Together, they formed the Council of the High Lords of Terra.

"This had better be important." The Master of the Astronomican grumbled.

"What does the Adeptus Administratum have for us?" The Grand Provost Marshal of the Adeptus Arbites turned to the Master of the Adeptus Administratum; the most powerful of the High Lords and the de facto leader of the Council.

"I presumed you were the one who called me." The Master blinked slowly.

"You did not call this meeting?" The Representative of the Inquisition blanched and immediately zeroed in on the Grand Master of the Officio Assassinorum.

Despite the millennia that have past Drakan Vangorich and his bloody coup was a bitter and incredibly well documented stain in the Officio Assassinorum's history. It has haunted them ever since. The Grand Master held up his hands in distaste. "It was not me."

"Really?" The Inquisitor tightened the grip on his cane revealing a hidden metal blade. The Grand Master though impassive readied himself in every way he knew how. Drakan Vangorich had ensured many things apart from never having the trust of the High Lords ever again, Grand Masters have an exceptionally short life expectancy. If even the slightest thing was out of place, the Office of Assassins was the first to blame, followed by the Inquisition in a close second.

"Please stay your hand," a voice responded curtly, "the Grand Master did not call the meeting. I did."

The High Lords turned to the source. "Why would the Captain-General of the Adeptus Custodes call the Council into session?" The Inquisitor barked. "I cannot even recall an event when the Custodes ever did such a thing."

"Since the foundation of the Council, the Captain-General has only called a session only three times, not including this." The Fabricator General beeped.

"I assure you I would not call this meeting if it was not important." The Captain-General soothed.

"And the fact that you have ordered a closed session?" The Inquistor gestured to the legion of scribes writing everything that was said and done, or at least where they _should_ have been. Apart from the twelve High Lords, the Senatorum was eerily empty.

"What I must say cannot be placed in public record." The Captain-General's voice was like a whisper, his voice carried on the stagnant air. "We do not know who else might be listening." The Inquisitor seemed to be the most accommodating, an organisation founded on the principles of worst-case scenario and paranoia was well acquainted with the concept of spies and traitors. Even on Holy Terra.

"So what is the issue?" The Ecclesiarch tapped the desk with a mechanical digit.

"We need to conduct an expedition to the Guli System." The Golden armoured giant titled his head to the side.

"That is not a system I have heard of." The Grand Provost Marshal scoffed.

"I have. It is one of mine." The High Lords looked upon the Lord Commander of Segmentum Solar, "It is in Sub-Sector Fu, in the Galvas Sector."

"Galvas Sector?" The Master of the Administratum blinked. "There is nothing there. It is filled with worlds lost to solar winds and radiation."

"That's all?" The Lord Commander of Segmentum Solar glanced at his counterpart in the Imperial Navy, the Lord High Admiral. "We can organise a team tomorrow."

"No I don't mean you. I mean we; the Adeptus Custodes included. We will be in charge of the operation." As the Captain-General expected many in the room paused some in disbelief, some in suspicion.

"Why?" The Inquisitor's suspicion boiled.

"It is a matter of the utmost secrecy." The Captain-General waved a hand. "I wished to inform you out of courtesy. I know how unorthodox that is."

"I'll say." The Grand Provost Marshall leant forward.

"Aren't you bound by oath to never leave Terra?" The Lord Commander raised a brow.

"That is only a rumour." The Captain-General allowed a chuckle. "We can conduct operations outside of the Imperial Palace and indeed off Terra, but it is very rare."

"Which brings us back to 'why'." The Inquisitor frowned. "Why would the Adeptus Custodes need to conduct something as insignificant as an _expedition_ of a system filled with Dead Worlds?"

"As you all know, we have a problem. The problem happens to be everything and everywhere." The Captain-General breathed. "We have Orks and Tau in Ultima Segmentum, Tyranids have a fleet right next to Segementum Solar, Chaos in Segmentum Obscuras. We have Dark Eldar hiding the Warp and the Eldar and Necrons could be anywhere."

"We have faced these threats for millennia." The Lord Commander titled his head.

"But we have a time limit." The Captain-General looked uncomfortable. "The God-Emperor's light will wane. The Golden Throne is failing him. When that happens, not just the Imperium but the human race itself is finished." The news always made everyone uncomfortable. The Ecclesiarch whispered a silent prayer while the Fabricator-General was silently cursing in binary. "What we have done is encourage stalemate. We need to change our tactics."

"And how does this expedition to the Guli System help us?" The Inquisitor asked.

"I don't know." The Captain-General sighed. "But my duty demands it."

"Duty?" The Paternoval Envoy dismissed the claim. "We have the highest authority in the Imperium. We would not order such a task."

"My mission comes from THE _authority_." The Captain-General looked the leader of the Administratum dead in the eye. "I should be clearer with my language. I am not asking you; I am telling you."

For once the High Lords were unpleasantly silent, a similar thought passing through all their minds. _He couldn't possibly mean that….could he?_ While the claim could be a lie, no one could exactly challenge him, not even the Inquisitorial Representative; and he thought every single word the Captain-General spoke was pure heresy. But to accuse the Adeptus Custodes of heresy would be the gravest of all acts; their loyalty has been tried and tested under the Inquisition and found it pure and unscathed, not to mention that to level such an accusation in the Imperial Palace the home ground of the famed guards is just suicidal.

"However," the Captain-General broke the silence, "I cannot do this alone." The Captain-General puffed his chest. "The Adeptus Custodes has many abilities, but I do not know what awaits us. We need to be prepared for any eventuality. This ensures the greatest chance of success." If nothing else, that put the Council's mind at ease, each of them having their own eyes on the operation will ensure a certain degree of trust.

"What do you need from us?" The Master of the Administratum replied eagerly.

"I need each of you to contribute your best and most trusted people for the expedition." The Captain-General looked at each High Lord in turn. "This is something that must be done with the most absolute secrecy, but everyone plays a part. I don't want people being purged or disappearing for no reason."

The Inquisitor and Grand Master knew full well that the Captain-General's viewpoint was meant for them. That meant no Grey Knights or Eversor Assassins. The Inquisitor was not bothered, if Adeptus Custodes was willing to let them peek over their shoulder, the Inquisition will gladly do so. The Inquisitorial Representative already had someone in mind.

"Just more one question." The Inquisitor sensing the meetings inevitable conclusion. "Presuming you did have contact from _Him_ ; what does He expect us to find?"

The entire Council focused on the Captain General, their eyes boring into the golden armoured warrior. He whispered his response.

"Hope."

0o0o0o


	2. Chapter 2

Curtains of War

Chapter 2

 _Retribution Class Battleship 'Salvation_ _', enroute to destination [CLASSIFIED],_ _Segmentum Solar 0 566.998.M41_

 _Bureaucracy (noun): the art of making the possible, impossible._

The Captain-General groaned under the weight of axiom older than the Imperium itself. He knew Imperium Bureaucracy was more powerful and disruptive than any Chaos incursion or Ork Waagh!

To get things done in secret was an impossible task, ensuring a matter was top secret required filing _paperwork_ for Emperor's sake!

The current Master of the Adeputus Administratum had to get creative, a challenge he took up with great relish. Seriously he was shaking with excitement.

Not everyone was so giddy, the last Master of the Adminstratum that got inventive was Gogo Vandire, and everyone knew how _that_ turned out. But Emperor bless him, he did it…somehow.

In a few short days, something of a record with Imperium bureaucracy, the Captain-General of the Adeptus Custodes found himself off Terra for the first time in…well…ever.

He was on the bridge of a non-existent Retribution Class Battleship, flanked by two imaginary Dauntless Class Light Cruisers, crewed with fictitious people, heading on a course to nowhere, to search for nothing.

It was impressive.

 _Emperor preserve me, I love subterfuge._

"We are on our journey Lord." The Captain-General's thoughts were interrupted by Admiral Hurk. A no-nonsense man with little patience, he seemed rightly irritated that his ship has been commandeered for some mission that does not exist. Certifiably loyal, he hated the fact he was assigned to some bollock clandestine mission but he grudgingly obeyed.

"ETA?" The Captain looked down on the small man.

"Our Navigator says two hours at most." The Admiral rolled his eyes. "He says he knows a shortcut."

"I'm sure he does." The Custodes mused. Their Navigator, Benjamin Belisarius was one of more seasoned navigators on the Imperium. To have someone so important jeopardised the secrecy of the operation, but the Paternoval Envoy ensured Benjamin's discretion. The fact that Benjamin was the Paternoval Envoy's nephew and probably one of the few people the leader of the Navigators could trust was purely coincidental.

"Orders Lord?"

"Assemble the men." The golden warrior strode out of the bridge.

0o0o0o

"I'm not so sure we should have informed the rest of the High Lords." Galem voiced his concern.

"You should have more faith in the Emperor." The Captain-General smiled. To be honest, the Captain-General was not sure of what he would find. But he received word from a higher power, he must do what he can.

"It's not the Emperor I'm worried about." Karver replied. "It's these…people."

The leader of the Adeptus Custodes chuckled, Galem and Karver were his most trusted comrades at arms, and together they fought with the Emperor during his Great Crusade. Unlike the gold of the Captain-General, the armour of Galem and Karver were black, a symbol of mourning for their most glorious Lord.

"We must have faith in the Emperor's plan." The Captain-General soothed. "These people good or bad will have some part to play. Stand strong brothers."

The Captain-General flanked by two of his closest allies strode into the briefing room. They were the last to arrive, all were present except for Admiral Hurk and their Navigator who were understandably busy. The room did not accurately represent each of the High Lord's of Terra, but the Captain-General knew each of them had spies and agents in the expedition.

 _I'm surrounded by snakes_ , the Captain-General grunted, confident that everyone on this expedition was a watchdog of some sort. The only people he could trust were his two comrades in arms who joined him and the God-Emperor Himself.

The short bulky man hidden under a brown robe was known as Curator Marc, a man of history he carried with him everything known about the Guli System. He huddled next to his fellow Terran, a balding man simply called Gerald, he did not reveal his identity but he screamed Astronomican.

Next to them was a woman shrouded in a black trench coat named Koth. Although she showed the seal, everyone knew a member of the Ordos Hereticus when they saw it. Small in stature her eyes and voice commanded great fear. She was accompanied by a psyker who muttered to himself in the corner.

The Tech-Priests of Mars were the most numerous members of the expedition totalling sum 1,400 Skitarii and Engineers stationed amongst the fleet. All were led by the imposing Archmagos Takilr, a 'woman' with little organic matter to prove her origins.

Next to some of the deadliest beings in the galaxy the Imperial Guard seemed rather non-threatening. Nonetheless a beady-eyed Colonel Marchik led the 4th Kasrkin Elite boarded the ships ready to prove that real humans are not something to be scoffed at.

However, the Tech-Priests and the Karskin were not left to manage their own devices. They were managed by an unpleasant man called Cardinal Conive who enforced the faith and an even more unpleasant faceless man called Justicar Drekk who enforced the law. Each of them had their own retinue though it was not certain as to whom each member reported to.

However, the Captain-General did not see anyone from the Adeptus Astra Telepathica. He was not concerned, when it came to the Telepathica, anyone with a silver of psyker ability could be one of their agents. He would not be surprised if one of the Karskin's sanctioned psykers was an agent and would simply read Colonel Marchik after the meeting was over.

Similarly, the Captain-General did not immediately see any Assassins, but he would have been insulted if he did. Sure he noticed the two Vindicare snipers assigned to the Karskin Elite, but it was the ones he could not immediately detect that worried him. It took about ten minutes to figure out the midshipman on the bridge was actually Callidus shapeshifter and one of the junior lieutenants in the loading bay was a Vanus intelligence officer. But the Captain-General did not need to live over a thousand years to know there was a Venenum poisoner loitering close to the mess hall and an enforcer of the dreaded Temple Secretum ready to take action if necessary. That 'action' may involve the three dormant Eversor Assassins stored in an ambiguous crate labelled 'Reactor Waste' near the engine bay at the rear of the ship.

 _What have we become_? The Captain-General signed. "Thank you all for coming. I know you are all anxious to get down to it. So let's begin: Curator Marc, if you please."

The Curator stepped forward to a console in the centre of the room, a few button presses and holographic display hummed to life. "Ladies and Gentleman, our destination is the Guli System." A solar system circling a white dwarf star floated in the centre of the room, the planets orbiting at various speeds and angles. "It is a ten planet system all of them Dead Worlds, engulfed around the Gilese Star a stable white dwarf. Discovered circa 15M, it became uninhabitable in 23M due to various eruptions of supernova and neutron stars. The entire sector is showered in radiation of all spectrums."

"The Light of the Astronomicon is strong here." Gerald spoke. "There is little chance of damage or Chaos incursion. The radiation while strong, will not prohibit our ability to move around the sector. We will be safe here."

"Historical use?"

"A system of war; most of the planets were fortress worlds. It held significant strategic value as a defence point; Terra's bodyguard as it were." Marc glanced through his paperwork. "I have pulled all the information held in the Estate Imperium and the Administratum itself. Its records are sketchy at best, most of it lost during the Age of Strife."

"Hardly the kind of place to conduct an expedition, hmm?" Koth narrowed her eyes on the Captain-General, as if he was somehow at fault. The leader of the Custodes felt safe in the righteousness of this mission not to mention Galem and Karver by his side. None of the people on this ship posed a threat to him or his men, they guarded the Emperor for a reason.

The Captain-General decided to give the Inquisitor the attention she deserved; he turned to the Tech-Priest. "How goes the protection measures?"

"Well Lord." The Archmagos Takilr beeped. "The ships will naturally protect us from solar winds. For the people on the ground, we have outfitted the crew and personnel with advanced radiation inhibitor suits. We have also distributed advanced metabolic drugs to ensure maximum coverage. We will be able to stay on any one of the planets for a maximum period of eight hours at a time. After which they must return to the ship for resupply and re-administering of the drugs."

"How much do we have?"

"Three for everyone on this mission." The Magos blinked. "You will have a total of 24 hours on the surface of the system."

"How are we going to scour an entire system in 24 hours?" Marchik spat. "We do not have the resources or the manpower."

"Only one fortress world is necessary." The Captain-General pointed at the map. "We need to go to the fourth planet of the system. That is our destination, 24 hours should be enough." The Captain-General nodded. "Morale?"

"Relative." The Cardinal tapped a book of the Imperium gently. "The men are nervous, but their faith is strong." Justicar Drekk remained impassive, his features forged out of rock.

"I'm sure the men will be less twitchy if they were made aware of what the hell they were doing here." Marchik grumbled.

"A fortress world may contain fascinating insights." Takilr buzzed. "I'm sure this expedition will not be a waste of time." Tech-Priests are pretty twitchy. Despite this they were actually the easiest ones to cajole into silence, all the Fabricator-General had to do was promise new and shiny STC's and they were on board faster than flame on a heretic.

"Guli IV was a fortress world but a remote one." The Curator searched through an old scroll. "Based on the information we have it was not as developed as the other planets. It was more of an outpost than anything else."

"That is our destination." The Captain-General repeated. "We don't have much time. I suggest you make yourselves ready."

0o0o0o

 _Grid 6-5, Guli IV,_ _Sub-Sector Fu, Galvas Sector,_ _Segementum Solar_ _0 566.998.M41_

"Ugh, Emperor preserve us this place _sucks_." Corporal Jensen muttered through his vox. Guli IV was a barren desolate wasteland in every way.

The earth was barren and cracked, with the occasional fortress dotting the horizon. The fortresses were impressive but after searching the forth one in a row while carrying almost fifty kilos in armour and weaponry in one hundred degree heat not including this ridiculous orange and yellow radiation suit on top of that and eventually you stop caring about the serenity.

"Shut it Corporal." Their assigned 'morale officer' one black clad Arbitrator called Dayan snapped. He was not a man you wanted to cross but Jensen had to admit that the Arbitrator looked considerably less threatening wearing the brightly coloured radiation suit. "We have enough time to get to search this final fortress and then we get back to the ship. You do not want to be here when you run out of the drugs that stop your organs from melting."

"Finally." Jensen sighed in relief. "A hot meal and some rest."

"I sad shut it corporal." Dayan barked. "Back talking a superior officer is still an offence. Don't make me write you up." Jensen to his credit maintained his faculties enough to hold back a snarky comment about not a 'superior' officer but merely a higher ranking one.

Then they saw their assigned target.

The fortress was twice the size of a titan, it shot straight up out of the ground like a spire, its walls forged from black metal. "Huh, this looks different from the others." Jensen wondered.

"Possibly some kind of central command?" A fellow Karskin, Milton asked.

"I don't know…." Jensen's instincts flared. This place was different from the others, the looked very well worn and battered by time and radiation, their colour a dull grey. But this thing was not only well preserved but much bigger.

"Less reminiscing and more searching." Dayan growled.

"Hold on sir," their vox operator reached for his communicator, "let me inform command of our position first. The place looks like it will jam our signal. I'm already getting static."

"If the communication is being jammed don't come in." Dayan gestured to two other Karskin. "You two stay out here and guard our vox-caster."

They both replied with a crisp 'sir'.

"Squad one and two you sweep the upper levels." Dayan ordered. "Jensen, Alek and Milton; you're with me."

Jensen stifled a groan, Dayan was a pain in the ass but Alek was just… a much bigger pain in the ass. Alek was their resident Skitarii, basically just a militarised Tech-Priest with a serious hard-on for their mission. He was very much humanoid in shape, but what he lacked in appearance he made up in _enthusiasm_.

The whispers of STC's dancing around the system has made the cog-boys almost unbearable. Scanning every Emperor forsaken inch of the planet. Running head long into hallways filled with (thankfully obsolete…mostly) traps and being all around bonkers. They were not soldiers, they were hyper-active children searching for candy.

Jensen heard from the crew in Grid 5-7 a whole squad of Skitarii accidently levelled a fortress. They thought they found an STC, instead they found an armoury filled with live grenades. Thankfully no one was killed, which was a surprise in itself.

"The Omnissiah waits for NO ONE meat bags!" Alek ran head first into the fortress. "FOLLOW ME TO GLORY!"

"Wait! Alek – oh Emperor save me from these idiots." Dayan groaned. "Alright you two go get and him."

Jensen gave a knowing glance at Milton sharing the same thought. _I swear if Alek gets us thrown into another pit again, I'm shooting him._


	3. Chapter 3

Curtains of War

Chapter 3

 _The Golden Throne, Sanctum Imperialis, Imperial Palace, Holy Terra, Sub-Sector Sol, Solar Sector, Segmentum Solar 0 562.998.M41_

The Captain-General was being dragged along by Galem, who urged him to follow without a word. The urgency in his voice encouraged him to follow without question. They ran like Chaos itself was right behind them and did not stop until they reached the most important and sacred location in the Galaxy.

The Golden Throne.

The location of the God-Emperor of Mankind.

Even after so many centuries guarding this holy location, the Captain-General was still in awe.

The architecture, the ornate scriptures and monuments carved along the golden walls. It was a pure testament of human ingenuity.

But all of this paled before the very heard of the Imperium of Man; the Emperor Himself.

Being in His presence, the Captain-General was not surprised humanity labelled Him a god. Truly after 10,000 years of internment, He still had grace. The Golden Throne that sustained Him began to wrap around and fuse to Him recreating a pale imitation of the Golden Armour He wore during the Great Crusade.

Guarding Him were the most highly trained and elite units in the Imperium, the Adeptus Custodes each capable of destroying a legion by themselves. They stood silently guard, ever watchful for threats both inside and out.

Well that is _normally_ what happened.

In this case the Custodes knelt before the throne prostrating themselves in silence.

"What is going on here Galem?" The Captain-General asked. "Why are-"

 _CAPTAIN-GENERAL._

The voice echoed inside his head like a tidal wave. The power, the voice, the sheer intent; it could only be one person. "My Emperor…." The Captain-General did not see any discernible movement coming from the Saviour of Mankind, but he had the indiscernible yet certifiable feeling that He was watching him.

 _YES._

 _IT IS I._

The golden armoured warrior could not precisely recall when he fell to his knees, but it did not matter. "Oh my Lord. You speak!" The Captain-General wept in joy. The last time the Emperor spoke it was millennia ago, during the horrific Age of Apostasy. His noble words are what convinced Alicia Dominica to see the light and the folly of her ways.

But deep in his soul, the Captain-General trembled. For the Emperor to speak, there must be grim and dark days ahead.

 _YOU ARE PRECEPTIVE CAPTAIN-GENERAL._

 _DARK DAYS ARE APPROACHING._

"What troubles you Lord?" The Captain-General bowed his head. "How may we serve you?"

 _OUR WAY OF LIFE IS UNDER THREAT._

 _CHAOS IS AMOUNTING A NEW CRUSADE IN THE COMING YEAR._

 _IT WILL BE LARGER AND MORE DEADLY THAN ANY BEFORE IT._

 _A 13_ _th_ _Black Crusade…._ "The Imperium will send its best and brightest." The Captain-General smiled. "I will inform High Lords to amount a proper defence. We shall triumph as we have done before."

 _DO NOT BE SO CERTAIN._

 _THE TYRANIDS ARE CLOSER THAN YOU THINK._

 _THE NECRONS HAVE NOT YET BEGUN TO MAKE WAR._

 _WE ARE AT A DISADVANTAGE._

"We have fought xenos and heretics for millennia and we are still here." The Captain-General smiled weakly. "Let them come. We are ready." The Voice of the Emperor went silent, and to his dying breath the Captain-General could have sworn the Father of Humanity shook His head ever so slightly.

 _SENTIMENT AND HUBRIS WERE MY UNDOING CAPTAIN-GENERAL._

 _DO NOT MAKE THE SAME FOLLY AS I DID._

"I don't understand…"

 _I AM DYING CAPTAIN-GENERAL._

 _YOU KNOW IT._

 _I KNOW IT._

 _AND WHEN I DIE HUMANITY WILL FALL WITH ME._

"The…the Adeptus Mechanicus will not fail Lord." The Captain-General welled back tears. "They are scouring the Galaxy to find a solution."

 _YOU DECEIVE YOURSELF CAPTAIN-GENERAL._

 _THERE IS NOTHING THEY CAN DO._

 _THERE IS NOTHING ANYONE CAN DO._

 _IT IS NOT QUESTION OF IF._

 _IT IS A QUESTION OF WHEN._

"….dare I ask when?" The voice responded with cold and cruel truth.

 _SOON ENOUGH._

"But…" The Captain-General wept. "We cannot lose you again…We need you." The warmth of Emperor's light did lessen his burden on the Custodes' heart, like the comforting hand of a friend.

 _DO NOT WEEP FOR ME CAPTAIN-GENERAL._

 _I MADE MY CHOICES._

 _NOW I ENDURE THE CONSEQUENCES._

 _INSTEAD TURN YOUR MIND TO THOSE WHO MAY YET LIVE._

"I don't understand."

 _HUMANITY WAS AT THE PINNACLE OF GALACTIC DOMINANCE._

 _THEN WE ENTERED THE AGE OF STRIFE._

 _WE LOST MUCH OF WHAT WE WERE._

 _BUT THERE MIGHT BE A WAY BACK INTO THE LIGHT._

"How so?" The Captain-General looked up.

 _HEAD TOWARDS THE GULI SYSTEM._

 _THERE IS SOMETHING THERE._

 _HIDDEN FROM ALL EYES._

 _SOMETHING I THOUGHT LOST UP UNTIL RECENTLY._

 _BUT UNDER THE SHROUD MAY BE THE KEY TO HUMANITY'S PAST._

 _AND FUTURE._

"What is there Lord?" The Captain-General swallowed. "What could there possibly be that can save us?"

 _THE TRUTH WILL REVEAL ITSELF IN DUE COURSE._

"But what about you Lord?" The Captain-General stood up, defiantly if not foolishly. "We cannot just let you die."

 _IT TOOK MUCH OF MY STRENGTH JUST TO SPEAK TO YOU NOW._

 _WHATEVER TIME I HAVE LEFT WILL BE USED TO POWER THE LIGHT OF THE ASTRONOMICAN._

"The Adeptus Custodes failed you once." The golden warrior was not deterred. "You are the most powerful human ever. If you know a way to save you, you _must_ tell us." The Emperor's skull seemed to glisten in the light.

 _I APPRECIATE YOUR INTENTIONS._

 _BUT WHAT HAPPENS TO ME IS IRRELEVANT NOW._

 _MANKIND EXISTED BEFORE ME AND IT WILL CONTINUE TO EXIST AFTER ME._

 _FOLLOW MY INSTRUCTIONS CAPTAIN-GENERAL._

 _GO TO THE GULI SYSTEM._

 _THIS IS MY LAST COMMAND._

 _LET IT BE A FINAL GIFT TO THE SPECIES I FAILED._

"My Lord…" The Captain-General felt the Voice leave his mind like leaves in the wind. "…Your Will be done."

0o0o0o

 _Grid 6-5, Guli IV, Sub-Sector Fu, Galvas Sector, Segmentum Solar 0 566.998.M41_

"Oh Emperor please save me from this idiot." Jensen groaned. "ALEK YOU DUMBASS! STOP RUNNING AROUND LIKE A SPASTIC EVERSOR!" Before he knew it Alek was gone again, running down one of a number of hallways that extended deeper into the gigantic fortress.

"Sir? Permission to kneecap Alek."

"Denied." Dayan glanced back from where they came. "The Adeptus Mechanicus would not be pleased with one of their own suffering from an inexplicable case of friendly fire."

"Yes sir." Jensen sulked.

The two other squads were heading _up_ , while Jensen, Milton, Dayan and that friggin Skitarii were heading definitely heading _down_. The ancient lights above dimly lit the black and windowless hallways stretching to Emperor knows where. The place looked like a mausoleum, it gave Jensen the creeps.

The other fortresses they searched had little of practical use. Their barren and dusted internals were littered with the odd crate filled with explosives and traps that mostly ceased to work. There were no blueprints, no evidence of interesting technology, nothing. They only found the occasional skeleton of soldiers long dead holding weapons that were damaged beyond repair scattered amongst the iron behemoths. Dayan commented that it was admirable they chose to die at their post rather that skulk about in shame. Jensen and Milton both realised that Dayan was obviously not a combatant. Any man who survived at least one engagement will tell you there is nothing glorious about dying in battle.

But this place…it was spotless and clean. _Too_ clean for a fortress that has been abandoned before the Age of Strife. There was no evidence of comfort or washrooms, no briefing room or guard posts…just empty. Jensen would almost argue 'mint condition'.

What really set Jensen off was the absence of traps; Alek should have triggered something by now. But no, he was still running around gleefully cheering. The place seemed less 'deserted' and more 'never used'.

"This place does not sit right with me." Milton whispered. "What was this place supposed to be?"

"Our briefing said it was a regular fortress." Jensen looked carefully at the walls looking for some evidence of life. "But I am starting to think otherwise."

"I am leaning towards a decoy." Milton cricked his neck. "Perhaps some kind of bunker?"

"Possible but unlikely." Jensen mused. "I am leaning towards some kind of fall-back outpost. This entire world consists of nothing but fortresses, it makes sense they would have to create some form of emergency command in case of an attack."

"How about both of you shut it." Dayan snapped. "We are not on shore leave."

"Come off it Justicar, there is nothing in here." Jensen huffed.

"That is _Arbitrator_." Dayan glared at him. "And don't make me introduce you to the wrong side of a stun baton."

"Umm sir?" Milton interrupted, if anything to spare Jensen of possible consequences. "I think Alek is up ahead."

Sure enough Milton was right.

"Alek there you are." Jensen growled. "Don't run off like that!"

But the Tech-Priest made no movements. Straight ahead in a large circular room stood Alek, or rather knelt. He was on his knees, slumped forward and quiet; a disturbing change of pace considering his past behaviour.

"Alek, do you here me?" Jensen's frustration quickly gave way to concern.

"Skitarii Alek what the hell do you think-" Dayan's scolding was interrupted by a hand clamped firmly on his mouth.

"Wait…" Jensen whispered. "This could be a trap. Milton get behind me."

Milton formed up and dragged the Arbitrator behind him who offered no resistance.

"Alek," Jensen hugged the opening of the hallway, "are you hurt? Give me a sit-rep." The Skitarii's response was eerily absent.

"Is he alive?" Milton readied his weapon.

"I don't know. Shit…" Jensen slowly peered around the corner searching for a trip wire, a weapon, anything. The room was as non-descript as the hallways; all black and no distinguishing features. That did not reassure the veteran or his colleague. "Dayan, don't move. Milton, mirror sweep. Stay low and to the sides. Ready…Go."

Lasgun in front, Milton and Jensen simultaneously turned out the hallway and trailed the walls of the circular amphitheater, meeting on the other side with little trouble.

"Jensen," Milton pointed up, "check it out." Jensen looked up and coughed a low whistle.

"I think we're in the centre of the whole fortress." Above them was a hollow tunnel stretching straight up into darkness, probably to the very tip of this black behemoth. "I got nothing here. Milton?"

"Negative." Milton sighed. "No sign of traps."

"Me neither." Jensen lowered his rifle. "All clear."

Dayan quietly moved into the room to join them. "What is this place?"

"I don't know." Jensen mused." It makes no sense to have a gigantic gap in the middle of the fortress, it is a significant design flaw."

"Hmm, a question to be answered by the Adeptus Mechanicus. Speaking of which..." Dayan tapped the kneeling Alek. "I swear to the Emperor Alek, you better be dead. What the hell are you doing kneeling in the middle of this Emperor forsaken place?"

But the kneeling Alek was neither dead nor injured. Judging by the small mutterings and the smell of incense they could only conclude he was _praying_. "What the fu-"

" _Greetings."_ A voice chirped cheerfully. _"It is a pleasure to meet you."_

They spun, weapons raised at the source. "Oh Emperor preserve us." Jensen gasped.

There in the middle of the room, was a ghost.

The ghost came in the form of a man, in his early twenties. He was wearing a style of clothing that was formal but _definitely_ _not_ military issue; smart casual at best.

" _There is no need for your weapons sir."_ The translucent spectre raised his hands above his head, in a calming matter. _"I assure you, I mean you no harm."_ The spectre's accent was strange, unlike anything Jensen had ever heard.

The three men looked at each other in dismay. "I think…" Dayan growled, "we have found what the powers that be have been looking for. Milton, you know the way back?"

"Yes sir."

"Then move it. Double time." Dayan barked. "Get on that vox and tell them to get their ass down here and I mean now."

"Yes sir!" Milton bolted for the entrance as fast as he could. The ghost waved a polite goodbye to Milton who obviously did not have time to pay attention to him, before gazing back at Dayan and Jensen.

"Who…what are you?" Dayan readied his power bat as if it would protect him.

" _My name is Louison."_ The ghost smiled. _"I am the caretaker of this facility."_

 _A ghost that was a caretaker of a facility_ , Jensen blinked, _now I have seen everything._ "I wish those reinforcements would hurry."

"Jensen." Dayan dared not take his eyes off the spectre.

"Sir?"

"Shut it."

0o0o0o


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

The Captain-General waited patiently on the bridge; unmoving and quiet. Centuries of training taught him the ability to remain absolutely still yet capable of springing into action a second later.

Staring at Guli IV, the planet of utmost importance, he could do no more than watch and wait.

"Does it speak to you?" The Captain-General did not bother to turn, he recognised the step of Admiral Hurk.

"In its own way Admiral." The Captain General whispered.

"Well I hope it's an interesting conversation. Recaf?" Admiral Hurk offered a small cup of the brown liquid coveted by all soldiers of the Imperium.

"No thank you, Admiral." The Captain-General let out a small smile.

"Your loss." The Admiral proceeded to help himself to _both_ cups with little dignity.

"You seem more chipper now than you did when our mission commenced." The leader of the Adeptus Custodes noted.

"It's because this is my 10th cup." The Admiral shrugged. The Captain-General actually laughed, probably for the first time in half a millennia. It was refreshing to be in the company of 'normal' people. No stuffy political snakes, no bureaucrats with his nose in the book, just regular people.

The golden draped soldier of the Emperor had lived a long time and he could smell deception half a star system away. Admiral Hurk was probably the only genuine commander on this expedition. He cared not for politics, he just did his job.

"You seem unconcerned about the magnitude of the impact this mission could have on the Imperium." The Captain-General tested.

"I don't care, that is why we got a ship full of geniuses to deal with that." The Admiral scoffed. "I am more concerned with my ship being commandeered and depending on what we find whether my crew and I will suffer and unexplained disappearance."

"That won't happen." The Captain-General frowned.

"You may be the Emperor's bodyguard, Captain-General, but you don't know what happens out here." The Admiral gazed up at the Custodes gigantic form, his eyes like cold steel. "If my men and I die in combat, I can live with that. But I am not happy with the thought of vanishing at the hands of the team that I am playing for."

The Captain-General had to admire the man, it takes real strength and courage to voice his opinion to someone twice his size and can kill him with his thumb. "I respect your candour Admiral. But that will never happen, I won't allow it."

The Admiral paused before nodding in acceptance. "I'm afraid others may not share your opinion."

"Lord Captain-General," the captain of the ship rushed in, "sorry sir, but we received a report from the planet's surface in Grid 6-5. They said they found something of interest."

0o0o0o

"I still don't see why I have to go down to the surface." Gerald raised a brow.

"Because if you didn't, the Master of the Astronomican would ask why." The Captain-General sighed. "I told the High Lords they all had a role to play. Everyone goes, no exceptions."

Each representative of the High Lords was hurried to a shuttle and sent to the planet's surface. The Captain-General specifically allowed the secret representatives of the Adeptus Astra Telepathica and the Offico Assassinorum to 'coincidentally' come aboard the ship.

Karver and Galem were left aboard the vessel, if anything were to go wrong it would happen during this time. With two members of the Adeptus Custodes on board, very few people would be both brave and stupid enough to try something.

"Curator Marc, any information of the location we are entering." Koth demanded.

"No Inquisitor, no records whatsoever." The curator quickly fumbled through the rather large amount of paperwork in his hands.

"Of course." Marchik grumbled.

"Sir we are landing in ten seconds." The pilot announced over the vox. The ship suddenly rocked and bumped before finally settling in silence. "Welcome to Guli IV."

The landing ramp opened to reveal a bright desolate wasteland, the black spire shooting out the ground like a sapling.

About a dozen soldiers were waiting outside to greet them.

"Welcome Lords." A soldier saluted. "I'm Corporal Milton. I cast the vox."

"Milton," Koth glared, "what precisely is it that you found…and where is your commanding officer?"

Milton seemed awfully small, even in the presence of paper-pushers such as Marc and Gerald. "Arbitrator Dayan and Corporal Jensen are still inside sir. I was told to bring you inside ASAP."

"And they could not meet us outside because…?" Koth thumbed a bolt pistol in her holster.

Milton sweated at the possibility of trying to explain what he saw. They would most likely declare him insane and the Inquisitor will probably just burn him on the spot. It would be much easier just to show them. "Lords, everything will make sense if you just follow me."

Then without even pausing he took off, he was even trying to drag his superior officer by the arm. The expedition 'leadership' followed, leaving the grim and worried faces of the lookouts to wonder what the hell they just found.

0o0o0o

They silent entered the labyrinth, Corporal Milton rushing ahead quickly gesturing them to follow with equal fervour.

The Captain-General followed his pace with ease, his heart racing for the first time in centuries. He was not one for conjecture or guessing all he could do is follow and wait. It was only when the leader of the Adeptus Custodes had a distinct feeling he was near the centre of the black monolithic structure did he actually begin to hear something.

A whimsical voice echoed through the dark hallway. _"- must say, I have never quite seen that uniform before. I take it you are a new regiment?"_

"Nah," a voice replied, far more casual with an accent undoubtedly Kasrkin, "my regiment's been a while. About 600 years to be precise."

"Jensen," a third voice far more gruff and angry than either two, "if you talk to that thing one more time I am going to club you in the face so help me!"

"How dare either of you?" A forth, undoubtedly a Tech-Priest interrupted. "Show some respect."

"Yeah lighten up Dayan, oops, I mean _Arbitrator_ Dayan." Jensen replied. "He seems harmless."

"Let the professionals decide that. Attention!" The one called Dayan straightened into a crisp salute as the leadership rounded the corner. The Karskin called Jensen and a Tech-Priest spun around following Dayan's example.

"I brought them as ordered sir." Milton returned the salute.

"Good work Milton." The Arbitrator nodded facing the leaders of the expedition. "Dayan, reporting."

"At ease Arbitrator." The Captain-General bowed slightly. "Now tell me what did…you…find…"

"Oh Emperor preserve us all." Cardinal Conive bowed in awe and terror. Marc and Gerald cowered behind the cardinal peering over his shoulder.

"We didn't know what to do Lord." Dayan continued his report. "We sent for you the moment we found…it."

"You were right in calling Dayan." Inquisitor Koth never took her eyes off the phenomenon, leaning back to whisper something to the psyker that accompanied her. Talkir merely approached her fellow Tech-Priest, speaking to each other ecstatically in a language not pronounceable with a human tongue. Justicar Drekk merely tightened the grip on his laspistol.

" _Hello."_ The ghost waved politely back. _"How are you?"_

 _Oh Emperor, is this what you were hinting at?_ The Captain-General wondered. "I am fine…thank you. Who are you?"

" _My name is Louisson,"_ the spectre smiled, _"I am the caretaker of this facility."_

"I….see." The golden armoured warrior paused, _now what?_

Thankfully their spectre broke the ice. _"May I ask who you are?"_

"I am the Captain-General of the Adeptus Custodes." The soldier replied. "I am leading this expedition. There are my colleagues; Inquisitor Koth, Justicar Drekk, Archmagos Talkir, Colonel Marchik, Cardianl Convie, Curator Marc and Adept Gerald. I see you have met Corporal Jensen, Tech-Priest Alek and Arbitrator Dayan."

" _I also met Corporal Milton as well."_ Louisson nodded to the corporal. _"I must say I am a little confused."_

"How so?"

" _I see you and hear you, I also analysed your ships in orbit."_ The spectre commented. _"But unfortunately neither you nor your ships match any known design."_

"Things may have changed since you last had contact with Terra."

" _Terra?"_ Louisson raised a brow. _"I take it you mean planet Earth?"_

"Yes…" The Captain-General blinked; Earth was such an archaic name.

" _So it still exists."_ Louisson tested.

"It has stood for over forty millennia." The Captain-General agreed. "And still going strong."

" _Excellent,"_ the spectre seemed to relax, _"I lost contact with Earth some time ago and feared the worst. I know Theatre Marshall Marquis will be quite relieved."_

The Captian-General wondered to himself. "How long have you been here?"

" _Well as of now…"_ Louisson muttered to himself, _"precisely 19, 284 years, 8 months, 1 week, 4 days, 11 hours, 27 minutes and 14 seconds."_

"…" The Captain-General turned briefly to his smaller colleagues, they too seemed quite dumbfounded. That would put this Louisson somewhere around the 23rd millennium. Before the Horus Heresy, before Age of Strife, before the Fall.

The Inquisitor tapped the Custodes on the arm. "Captain-General, I have liaised with my psyker, he informs me that there is a consciousness in that ghost."

 _Well that at least rules out A.I._ The Custodes nodded, relieved at least one disaster was averted.

" _I am pleased to report that all systems are online."_ Louisson continued. _"With the exception of a temporary breach in the Planetary Plating several weeks ago everything is at 100% operational capacity."_

 _Planetary Plating?_ The Captain-General frowned at the term. _Is there a facility deeper underground?_

" _You look confused."_ Louisson commented. _"I take everything is alright?"_

"It is it's just…" The Captain-General trailed off. _What precisely is going on here?_

" _Ah, I see."_ The ghost frowned slightly. _"You did not know of this facility's existence or purpose."_

"No, we didn't." The Captain-General silently cursed, two millennia of service and he gets ousted like a five year old child. _If only Galem was here, he is far better at deception._ "We were told to come here on a hunch."

" _May I ask what hunch is that?"_ The ghost leaned forward curiously.

The Captain-General wondered what to say, how cliché can he be. But truth is stranger than fiction. "Humanity is under threat. It needs a miracle. Our hunch told us that our salvation can be found here."

" _I see."_ Louisson's tone said he did not see at all, but was being polite. _"Well I suppose our confusion is mutual. I was under the belief, you were here to brief us on the latest galactic intelligence and re-establish our uplink with planet Earth."_

"I-I believe I can explain why…" Curator Marc piped up, his mind still stuck on the fact they were talking to a ghost.

" _I appreciate the offer Curator Marc,"_ Louisson bowed lightly, _"but considering the circumstances it would be best to discuss this with Theatre Marshall Marquis. Would you kindly step away from the hallway entrances?"_

0o0o0o

The Imperial servants reluctantly complied giving a wide berth with the surrounding entrances.

The ground began to shudder and rumble.

The sound of some long forgotten generator started up like thunder.

Then the ground beneath them descended.

Only it was not a ground, it was a platform, lowering them into the earth. The speed was indeterminate, but they could feel a certain weightlessness in their organs (for those that had them).

The Adminstratum representatives looked like they were about to faint from shock.

Justicar Drekk looked positively ready to murder someone.

The Tech-Priests looked absolutely excited; the Captain-General wondered if that kind of exuberance was the reason so many Necron tomb worlds were reactivated in the first place. The descent triggered lights embedded into the cavern walls.

"This is major, Captain-General." The Inquisitor mentioned. "What have we gotten ourselves into?"

"I do not know Inquisitor Koth." The Captain-General gazed upward, the top of the entrance was a small dot in the darkness, they must have been several kilometres down by now.

"Neither do I." Koth glared at the discoverers of the find. "But even I know that this is too much for pawns."

Jensen knew exactly what that meant. "Aw crap."

With a motion that seemed a little too well practiced, Koth pulled out a laspistol from her robes levelling it at Milton, Dayan, Alek and Jensen.

She pulled the trigger.

But nothing happened.

She blinked, but the pistol was no longer in her hands.

It was in the Captain-General's.

"I said this before to your superior, Inquisitor." The golden warrior looked at the laspistol in mild fascination. "This is a mission for humanity. Everyone plays a role. No unnecessary killing."

"But their deaths are necessary." The Inquisitor's face boiled red with fury. "It is my duty and discretion."

"As a master of Imperial Law," the Justicar finally spoke, "I can inform you that as Inquisitor she does have discretion."

"So you agree with her?" The Captain-General raised a brow. "She was about to kill one of yours."

"Of course not." Drekk shook his head. "But the law is absolute."

"I am Captain-General of the Adeptus Custodes, one of the High Lords of Terra. My word is above all written law, even the Inquisition's." The Captain-General gazed at the small forms he towered over. "Does anyone challenge my authority?" The hum of the machinery was all that could be heard. It was all the response he needed.

"This is a mission of mercy." The Captain-General gazed upon the Inquisitor, and for the first time in a long time Koth felt incredibly small. "Not death Inquisitor."

"Of course you believe that, you have been stuck in your golden walls, you know nothing of what happens in the galaxy." Koth sneered.

Even Justicar Drekk was surprised at the sheer _gall_ ; the Inquisitor _sassing_ the Captain-General of the Adeptus Custodes.

There must be a world dedicated to holding her balls. And a system to her stupidity.

The golden warrior, who was probably around before her great-great-great-great-great-great grandparents ever met was mildly amused. Admiral Hurk made a similar comment, but while he was merely concerned for the lives of his men and respectful, this Inquisitor was just self-entitled.

"For the sake of the mission and out of courtesy to your supervisor I am going to forget you said that, _child_." The Captain-General crushed the laspistol in his hand, debris slithered out of his hand like dust. "But you have expired whatever goodwill I had towards you."

"The Lord Inquisitor will hear of this." Koth seethed.

"Worry about your own fortunes Inquisitor Koth." The Captain-General turned around. "You have revealed your intentions and now you are unarmed surrounded by the very people you were about to kill."

The Inquisitor paused glancing at Milton, Jensen, Alek and Dayan. All of them gazed at her.

Dayan was the more compliant. He would have not been pleased but he would take no action…probably.

But the two corporals and the Tech-Priest, there was something in those looks.

Koth realised she might be in a lot of trouble.

And if something _were_ to happen, chances are the leadership will look the other way.

When this was over, she had to contact the Inquisitor Lord. Tell him what happened.

Provided she lived to make it back to the ship.

The descent continued, filled with only the sounds of humming machinery.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

 _UNKNOWN, Guli IV, Sub-Sector Fu, Galvas Sector, Segmentum Solar 0 567.998.M41_

The silence that carried the leadership was unnerving…and unending.

Archmagos Takilr and Skitarii Alek were probably the only ones with an actual 'mission clock' and could tell what the time was. Not that they cared, they were having the time of their lives.

But the golden leader of the Adeptus Custodes had the benefit of experience. The Captain-General knew that they have travelled downward over forty-three minutes and twelve seconds. They should be well within the planetary crust, which did make him concerned; beneath the crust is magma.

But that seemed counter intuitive, for as deep as they went, it was still cool like a mild breeze.

The Adminstratum delegates, Marc and Gerald were busy arguing about how the hell no one knew about this place.

Colonel Machik was congratulating the two Corporals Milton and Jensen on a job well done. Cardinal Conive was willing to name them Saints of the Imperium right then and there.

Dayan and Drekk merely stood next to each other, frowns of their face quiet and unassuming.

Koth on the other hand stood way off side with her psyker associate, far away from the two corporals anxious that her side arm has been taken. Her transceivers has been lost due to interference, she was completely alone.

Koth's thoughs were interrupted from a sudden groan from her psyker. "Ma'am I feel…"

"What is it, Balor?" Koth did not even bother to look at him, for if she did the Inquisitor would have noticed that the psyker did not look well at all.

The psyker called Balor responded as aptly as he could; he collapsed on the moving platform, vomiting all over the Inquisitor's boots.

That drew the attention of the delegation.

"What is wrong?" The Captain-General asked.

"I don't know he just-" The Inquisitor's train of thought was lost as she shook whatever Balor had for lunch off her footwear.

"The Warp, I can feel it fading….ripping away…." Balor clutched his head in pain. "Ugh….so quiet…."

" _I take it you have cosmic sensitivity?"_ Louison asked, worry on his face.

"Ugh…what…" Balor struggled to keep his food down.

" _Are you a psychic Mister Balor?"_ Louison clarified.

"Yes… I feel…" Balor trailed off with another dose of 'technicolor yawn'…again all over Inquistor Koth's boots.

" _You will be fine."_ Louison tried to reassure with a warm smile. _"We are accessing the final layer of the Planetary Plating; the Negation Field. All forms of transmission, even telepathic are negated. You are being cut off from Immaterium. It will hurt, but once we pass the Negation Field and your link has been fully severed you will recover."_

"Negation Field and Planetary Plating…" Takilr whispered, even with her mechanical monotone her excitement is obvious; those sounded like juicy new STC's if there ever was one.

"Where are you taking us?" Koth's eyes narrowed, what she would give right now for a laspistol.

" _To the Central Stage."_ Louison shrugged. _"As I said, it is best that you relay your intentions and information to Theatre Marshall Marquis."_

"Who or what is Theatre Marshall Marquis?" The Captain-General turned away from the still ill Balor.

" _He,"_ the spectre emphasised, _"is my commanding officer and the one in charge of the Guli Installations."_

"And is he human or is he like….?"

" _Me?"_ Louison shook his head. _"No he is 100% flesh and blood."_

The Captain-General frowned under his helmet. _That left more questions than answers, what kind of man can control a ghost?_

" _We are approaching the Central Stage."_ Louison spoke suddenly. _"The Negation Field has been passed. How do you feel Mister Balor?"_

"I feel…" The psyker looked surprised. "I feel good….no…better even. There is nothing…just….I can't feel a thing."

" _You also will be unable to use any of your abilities while in the Central Stage."_ Louison explained. _"Once you return to the surface your abilities and connection to the Immaterium will return."_

Balor looked somewhere between overjoyed, confused and horrified. That being said he looked like he needed a doctor with the amount of vomit over his robes.

" _Welcome to the Central Stage."_ Louison gestured as the walls of the descending tunnel finally ceased.

Void.

Endless void.

All was dark, and the air while breathable felt…old. Apart from the descending platform which seemed to just be suspended in the dark there was nothing else. The two Tech-Priests switched on several lights emanating from their eyes and other mechandrites, but all they saw was further blackness.

The platform finally stopped, a mere dot in the abyss. The grumbling generators finally silenced and now they were stuck suspended in the vast nothingness.

" _Please wait while I bring you to Theatre Marshall Marquis."_ Louison bowed slightly before his ghostly form vanished like smoke.

"It's not like we can go anywhere..." Corporal Jensen grumbled, at least that was before he was nudged in the ribs by the Colonel.

"It almost seems as if they hollowed the entire planet out…." Alek 'squeed'. "What kind of grand machines could do this?"

"Beats me Alek." Jensen snarked before sucking in a deep breath. "HELLO!"

….

….

….

Nothing.

No echo. No sound.

"Jensen, you have just been labelled a hero of the Imperium and a Saint." Colonel Machik growled. "Don't make me shoot you."

"Sorry Colonel." Jensen flustered. "You can't blame a guy for trying."

"We can and we will." Dayan glared daggers. "Sainthood be dammed. No offence, Cardinal."

"Silence." The Captain-General ordered; no one dared disobey. "Something approaches."

In the void a small object began to approach. It was silver and cylindrical; a pod. It approached in silence suspended by Machine God knows what.

The spectral form of Louison reappeared in the same place he vanished. _"Theatre Marshall Marquis approaches."_

The silver pod finally stopped right on the edge of the floating platform. Upon closer inspection it looked like a form of cryogenics chamber only much smaller and more sophisticated.

It opened without a hiss or a guff of air and revealed a man in uniform. No ice. No cold mist. Just a man sitting in what looked like a very comfortable bed.

His tunic was khaki white with a large royal blue garter ribhand sash running across his chest. A series of medals including one with a prominent emerald placed along the left side of his chest. The man's pants were pure lack with a distinctive blue line flanked by two thin golden lines running down both side

The man's eyes snapped open and got out the pod. His movements were strange, it was like he did not just spend the past twenty millennia in suspension. Although he appeared 'elderly' in his late sixties, early seventies he seemed to move with a quickness of someone half that age.

Strangely enough the first thing he did was pull out something from his attire, a thin cylindrical item the length of a hand; it looked like a Lho-Leaf Tube. Sure enough he unclasped the top and put a large brown cigar in his mouth, it seemed to light up of its own free will.

After taking a very long puff of his cigar and exhaled he finally seemed to remember where he was. "D'accord, Louison." The man called spoke, his voice flint with annoyance. "Qu'est-ce qui est si important que vous deviez me réveiller? Qui sont ces bête curieuses? Et pourquoi sont-ils dans mes installations?"

0o0o0o

"Something is wrong." A 'lieutenant' whispered to one of the deck officers; a Lieutenant-Commander. "Balor's gone dark."

"Meaning…" The 'Lieutenant-Commander' kept his voice down, careful not to draw the attention of Admiral Hurk. The admiral was a good man with a solid reputation for knowing his men; if he paid too close attention Hurk would realise he never served with the 'Lieutenant-Commander' nor the 'lieutenant' he was whispering with.

"It means that I have lost contact." The 'lieutenant' frowned. "The last thing he said was that they were descending down a platform…something about a ghost."

"Interesting…"

"Should we pull the plug?" The 'lieutenant' pushed. "I think our special surprise in the reactor storage may be required."

"How so?"

"We are a stranded here doing who knows what." The 'lieutenant' busied himself with paperwork disguising the need to take 'his' next does of polymorphine. "If word of this mission gets out it will be a sign of weakness to our enemies and to our own citizens. We have to contain this otherwise we risk everything."

"Sounds like you have it all figured out." The Lieutenant-Commander attended to his terminal with precision. "Why do you need me?"

"You are Vanus. The operation was assigned to you." The 'lieutenant' almost pushed his superior. "You have to act…if not now then soon."

"All true…" The 'Lieutenant-Commander' nodded. "But here is my counter; do you _really_ want to try something with _two_ members of the Adeptus Custodes on board?"

They both glanced up to see the golden clad warrior on the bridge, his height imposing and his weaponry intimidating. He was a masters of war, combat, assassination, deception and diplomacy with more experience than the Lieutenant-Commander would dare to guess.

Adeptus Custodes training was a secret known to only a few, but there were rumours amongst those in the Vanus Temple: part of that training involved exemplary service in all six temples of Officio Assassinorum. It would make sense; to prevent assassinations you would have to be one.

If that were the case, then this noble Custodian who only identified as Galen would probably know that such a mission would attract a lot of attention. _But he could not possibly know whom they were…could he?_

Almost on cue, the golden warrior turned his head ever so slightly…and his piercing green eyes met the 'Lieutenant-Commander' and 'lieutenant'.

Not a word was spoken, but everything between them was made perfectly clear.

 _He knew._

"Perhaps…" The 'lieutenant' gulped, "…we should wait until they return."

"Perhaps that would be best." The 'Lieutenant-Commander' agreed shooing away his subordinate.

The golden Custodian, his point made, returned to viewing the planet of Guli IV below, waiting for his brother in arms to return.

0o0o0o

Any conversation was immediately ground to a halt.

It appears that whatever the man called Theatre Marshall Marquis was speaking was an ancient Terran language, long since forgotten. Marquis looked a cross between annoyed and severely confused. "Que dit-il? Cela ne ressemble pas à l'anglais."

Louison replied in the long lost language. _"Non, monsieur, il semble que ce soit une sorte d'hybride latin. Je l'ai analysé et le fichier est prêt pour votre integration"_ Louison concluded his explanation by gesturing to the side of his head.

In turn, the man called Marquis reached for the side of his head to reveal a thin line of circuitry along his scalp. Alek and Takilr nearly freaked in excitement. Marquis played with a few buttons before rapidly blinking for about ten seconds. Afterward the old man sighed and looked the Captain-General straight in the eye.

"Do you understand me now?" He grumbled.

"Yes." The Captain-General blinked in surprise _. A multi-lingual translator, but he did not speak it before. Did he just download High and Low Gothic into his brain?_

"Good." The man straightened. "I'm Theatre Marshall Bernard Marquis. Who are you and why are you here?"

 _Straight to the point,_ the Captain-General concluded that he liked this man. "I am the Captain-General of the Adeptus Custodes on Terra. We are conducting an expedition. We were looking for something to help us."

"Help you?" Marquis repeated the words. "Why could you not just send a message?"

"We….didn't know you were here." The golden warrior conceded.

"Didn't know?" Marquis remained sceptical. "If you did not know then you are not part of the U.I.M. Louison, why did you bring them down here? This is classified military property; you know this."

" _Sir,"_ Louison bowed slightly, _"these are extenuating circumstances. They have been are only contact with Earth."_

"Only contact?" Marquis raised a brow. "Communications damage? Did the radiation cause more damage than we anticipate?"

" _No sir."_ Louison sounded grave. _"Communication was severed on Earth's end."_

"WHAT?!" Marquis choked. "When did this happen?!"

Louison winced at the man's verbal assault. _"We lost contact with Earth, 163 years, 7 months, 4 days and 5 hours, 16 minutes and 37 seconds into our service."_

"How am I just hearing about this now?!" Marquis fumed. "Louison what have you done?!"

"…" The spectre clammed up, the Captain-General suspected that Marquis was about the have a really bad day. The Theatre Marshall seemed to suspect this.

"Louison…what year is it?" There was a dangerous tone in those words.

" _The year is 40,998."_ Louison withered with each passing word. _"The Theatre has been in stasis for 19,284 years, 8 months, 1 week, 4 days, 12 hours, 36 minutes and 44 seconds."_

Theatre Marshall Marquis looked torn.

On one hand, Marquis was a military man and he had a duty to maintain civility, discipline and respect lest he disgrace his uniform and those that wore it before him.

On the other, the urge to murder the spectre Louison with his bare hands looked overwhelming. Marquis' hands were shaking and there were two separate moments where he actually reached out to choke Louison.

But being a translucent ghost seemed to have his advantages. So inevitably duty won out.

"…Louison." Marquis glared daggers; in another life, he would have made a fine Commissar. "I shall discuss your court-martial later."

Louison looked pretty worried for a spirit, scared even. _"But sir, please try to understand. My orders were-"_

"Not another word Louison." Marquis turned away from the ghost to face his guests. "Get out of my sight." The spectre seemed crestfallen, but he reluctantly complied, he vanished once more.

Marquis seemed eerily quiet, thinking about things known only to him. "Sorry you had to see that. It was meant to be my last tour, we were meant to change out every two hundred years." Marquis muttered to no one in particular. "Twenty thousand years…Christ…."

"I assure you it is fine." The Captain-General kept his distance. "I should apologise, we never meant to cause pain."

"...you say you need help." The Marshall changed the subject. "What's happened?"

The Captain-General paused, he never expected to get this far in the expedition. How precisely could he give a military man who is clearly dealing with something painful a prompt explanation of the past twenty millennia?

 _Where do I start?_ The golden warrior thought, and then a thought came to him. "In in the grim dark future, there is only war…"

0o0o0o


End file.
